


Astraphobia

by medievaI



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Astraphobia, Brontophobia, Comfort, Fear, Hugging, Keraunophobia, M/M, Panic, Phobia, Storm - Freeform, Thunder and Lightning, have fun, idk - Freeform, newtmas - Freeform, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medievaI/pseuds/medievaI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt is terrified of storms. When one hits, Thomas is there to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Astraphobia

**Author's Note:**

> idk what to put here besides this probably took me 13.5 seconds to finish so it's not that great sorry

It was the late afternoon, and the sky was the haunting gray color of overcast and an appending storm. Thomas knew that it’d rain soon, but didn’t think much of it, assuming the others would notice soon enough, and went back to his work in the gardens with Newt.

But the storm hit far faster than he ever could have predicted.

Once moment, there was a sprinkle of rain, barely noticeable. Thomas saw that Newt was visibly shaken by this, but said nothing, figuring the blond was just thinking about things. The next moment was chaos—lightning clashed and boomed in the sky above them within minutes, rain pouring, wind swirling and gusting around them. The Gladers scrambled in all directions, most being close enough to the Homestead to take cover in it, but Thomas had to shelter himself inside the Box as thunder roared over him, pounding in his head.

The wind sends chills down his spine as he opens the hatch and jumps down. The Box helps none of his anxieties in the slightest, but it has to be better than nothing. He'd talk it out with Alby later. The rain still pours onto him through the holes in the hatch. Thomas sits alone.

Then he hears a few alerting stomps on the hatch of the Box. Instinctively, he ganders above him to meet with the frightened stare of his blond friend. 

"O-Open the bloody hatch..." Newt tells him. Thomas noticed how his voice wavered, how his arms were wrapped protectively around himself, his gaze on his feet. At the sight, Thomas stands up quickly and lifts the hatch, letting Newt jump down.

The blond immediately crawls to a corner to the right of Thomas and sits down, hugging his knees to his chest. He takes shaky, uneven breaths, swallowing when he catches sight of Thomas looking at him with an odd, puzzled frown. His cheeks are flushed a light pink from the chill of the air.

Thomas bites his lip and looks away. He sees how visibly shaken Newt was, but dares not to say anything at first. "We could've made a run for the Homestead, you know," he mutters to break the ice.

Newt doesn't flinch. "Well, it's not like we can do anything about it now," he mumbles quietly. "At least it's better than having to stand in it."

With the next clash of lightning that roared angrily over their heads, Thomas barely flinched, but he saw that Newt's entire body jumped, his trembles becoming more noticeable when sitting still. Following that came a deep grumble of thunder as the storm rolled overhead, causing Newt to hug his legs closer to his chest. His jaw fossilized, he exhales a breath as he averts his gaze from Thomas, his eyebrows furrowed in fear, knowing full well that he's staring.

...Wait...is...?

Thomas only eyes him with an odd, incredulous smile. Newt cocks his eyebrows and looks away, pursing his lips; an admitting, sort of guilty look. He obviously knows what Thomas is assuming.

"Newt..." Thomas begins cautiously. "Are you...?"

" _Yes,_ alright?" Newt cuts in, his voice wavering. "My God..."

Thomas doesn’t have to finish his question to know what Newt is answering to. He just keeps staring, unaware of how uncomfortable he's making the blond, his eyebrows furrowing with curiosity. It looks as if Newt is on the verge of tears.

The blond's eyes meet with his own if only for a moment before Newt turns away and murmurs, "Stop bloody gawking at me like that."

"N-No, I'm sorry, I just..." Thomas sputters, looking away. "I didn't expect that from someone like you."

"Aren't I just shocking everyone today?" Newt snaps with a small voice crack. Thomas feels a pang of guilt strike his chest, wanting to take back what he just said. Then, Newt seems to get himself together and sighs, looking down. "Look, Tommy...I'm sorry. It's a long story."

"I bet," Thomas remarks. "You can tell me, you know. I'm your best friend."

Newt sneers. "Yeah, but I'd like it better if I knew I didn't spend my time with you down here boring you with my grotty life story."

Thomas shakes his head sympathetically. "You won't bore me," he says. "I really want to know."

Newt hesitates for a moment, swallowing nervously. Then suddenly, another clash of thunder booms over their heads, the sky illuminated by streaks of lightning. Newt actually yelps, hiding his face in his arms, trying to hug his knees closer to himself. He trembles uncontrollably, pulling at his hair.

And...cries?

Yeah, he's definitely crying.

It wasn't anything special, just a few sniffs and whimpers here and there, but then again, Thomas had never _ever_ seen this boy cry, not once. Not even during the few hardest times they've had here in the Glade. And a thunderstorm finally gets under his skin? Thomas doesn't know what to think, but he knows now that his fear must be pretty damn bad. It sends pricks of guilt up Thomas's spine.

“Newt…” Thomas begins. “What…—“

_“Changing…memories…th-thunderstorm…earthquake…running…falling…”_

Thomas’s stomach drops. “Newt…please…”

_“Drowning, drowning…! Drowning, drowning, drowning…oh, Christ…”_

“Newt! Snap out of it!” Thomas shouts.

The blond’s head shoots up from his arms, his eyes wide, his lips slightly parted in terror. His cheeks were an angry, tear-soused pink. The two of them sat there, Thomas gawking in disbelief, Newt staring blankly at the wall before him.

Newt’s lip trembles. “Tommy…I…”

"C'mere," Thomas ordered finally, gesturing his hand. He didn’t want to try to get anything out of him anymore.

Newt opened his mouth to say something, but Thomas cut him off.

"Relax, Newt," Thomas murmured lowly. "It sucks to be alone when you're panicking. Or cold. So, y'know."

Newt's cheeks flushed a deep red. "I...y-yeah. Sure." Then after a long pause and the realization of how unsure he sounded, he added, "Shank."

The brunet says nothing, only chuckling at Newt's nervousness of such an innocent act. The blond crawls hesitantly over to Thomas, sitting hip-to-hip with him on the concrete floor of the Box. Thomas, noticing Newt didn’t do anything else but sit beside him sniffle, wraps strong, protective arms around the other, pulling him to his chest. Newt makes a noise of surprise and purses his lips, succumbing to the other boy.

As they lay there, the brunet’s hands now at his sides, Thomas soon notices how much Newt is trembling and how much he’s tensed up as he laid his head on his shoulder. But this time he says nothing, assuming that Newt will eventually open up to him; and that he does. Within a few minutes, the blond has melted into Thomas’s arms. His breathing slowed. The tiniest of smiles rose to the corners of his mouth. Thomas thinks his heart is melting at the perfect sight.

Newt repositions himself so that he’s more comfortable leaning against Thomas. The brunet swallows and hesitantly wraps his arms around the other once again. Newt breathes a shaky sigh, then clutches his arms with his hands, his body trembling. Thomas could hear his heart pounding in his chest. He bites down on his lip.

With the next boom of thunder, which seemed to be getting farther away, Newt flinches, and his grip on Thomas’s arms becomes tighter. He snuggles into the other, taking comfort in his warmth and just him being there. Thomas never knew such an affectionate Newt until now. And it’s the best thing he could have asked for.

“Tommy,” Newt says suddenly, his voice soft and gentle. “Just so you know…you’re the only person I would ever do this with.”

“I better be,” Thomas replies instinctively. He isn’t sure how that would be taken, but Newt says nothing else.

And for the next few hours, they wait out the storm wrapped in each other’s arms.

\--------------------------

“Where have you _been?”_ interrogates Alby as soon as they walk into the Homestead. The storm blew over a long time ago, and the sky is a clear, sunny blue again. It took all of Thomas’s willpower to push Newt off of him in the Box when they decided to leave. They said nothing to each other as they climbed out. 

All eyes were on the two Gladers sauntering in then. Thomas runs his tongue over his lip. “We had to wait out the storm in the Box,” he answers.

Alby’s jaw drops. “Are you serious? All by your lonesome?”

“Lone _somes,”_ Minho corrects. “They had each other.”

Alby nods, staring at the two with an odd, puzzled smile. “I see.”

“Yep,” Thomas adds nervously, glancing at the blond next to him. Newt is twiddling his thumbs, his gaze on the ground. Some of the Gladers in the crowd snicker.

”Well, I guess that’s over,” Alby smiles. “We were cooped up in here for a long time waitin’ on you two. So anyone wanna get back to work?”

“Oh, definitely,” Minho replies sardonically.

As the Gladers begin to shuffle out, Minho is the last one to follow everyone else. When he passes Thomas, he gives him a playful slug on the shoulder, making Thomas turn his head in surprise.

“You should totally tell me about what happened down there sometime,” Minho mutters with a wink.

Thomas sighs in frustration as he walks away. “We didn’t do anything…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Minho calls back from a few yards away.

And Newt and Thomas were the only ones left in the Homestead. Thomas clears his throat and begins to head out as well.

“…Wait. Tommy,” Newt mutters before he could leave. Thomas turns around, his eyes searching Newt’s. “Uh…next storm. Would you mind…?”

“Not at all,” Thomas smiles.

Newt grins as well, giving a single nod. “Good that.”


End file.
